Page 121 of Wild Sanctuary

“Anyway.” Shelby pushes off the rail. “Tell June I stopped by? And tell Wyatt I said hi, would you?”

There it is. The little lilt in her voice on his name. The same one I noticed at the inn.

“I’ll tell June,” I deadpan.

Shelby’s smile doesn’t falter, and she’s too polished to react to the omission. She waves once from the driveway and pulls out, gravel crunching under her tires as the silver SUV disappears down the ranch road.

I sit back down at the kitchen table and add Lauren Reynolds to the notes on my phone. Bank teller. Commercial accounts. Four years. Probably nothing.

But someone at that bank made the call three years ago. I don’t know who, but chasing something sure feels better than chasing nothing.

I’m still staring at the name when Marcus’s tan Suburban, dusty from backroads, pulls into the driveway.

He climbs out and raises a hand when he sees me through the kitchen window. I meet him at the door.

“Hey, Marcus.”

“Daisy, sweetheart.” He pulls me into a one-armed hug that smells like aftershave and coffee. “I’m on the way out to the Mason spread by Clearwater. Thought I’d swing by and check in on you.”

He holds me at arm’s length and studies my face the way my father used to. “How you holdin’ up after all that business with the cabin?”

“I’m okay. Really.”

“Good. That’s good.”

He follows me inside and takes a seat at the kitchen table like he’s done it a thousand times, which he probably has.

“Listen, I wanted you to know.” He leans back in the chair. “I’ve already filed a claim on the laptop through the ranch insurance. Property damage, theft from a guest dwelling. It’s covered under the umbrella policy. You should see a check within a couple weeks.”

“Marcus, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Course I did. You’re family. We take care of our own.” He says it simply, like it’s a fact that doesn’t require discussion. “Torres have any leads? Anyone they’re lookin’ at?”

“Not yet. They dusted for prints but whoever it was wore gloves.”

He shakes his head slowly, his mouth set in a grim line. “Damn shame. World’s changin’, even out here. Used to be you could leave your doors unlocked from one end of the valley to the other.” He pauses, then looks at me with that gentle, direct way he has. “You feel safe up at the house? Wyatt taking care of you?”

“He is.” I can feel my cheeks heat even as I say the words.

Marcus watches me for a beat, and his expression softens into something knowing. “Your daddy would be glad about that, you know. He always thought the world of Wyatt. Used to say that boy had more integrity in his little finger than most men have in their whole body.”

I wrap both hands around my mug because I don’t trust my voice right away.

“So.” He changes gears with the easy warmth of a man who knows when to let a moment breathe. “The article. How’s it coming? You almost wrapped up?”

“Not quite. My editor wants more material, and honestly, I’m not ready to leave yet.” I meet his eyes. “I think I’m going to extend my stay. Maybe even look into something more permanent.”

“Is that right?” His eyebrows lift, and the smile that follows is pleased and paternal. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. This place has a way of pulling people back.”

He pushes back from the table and picks up his hat. “I won’t keep you. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He squeezes my shoulder on the way past. “You need anything, sweetheart, anything at all, you call me. Day or night. I mean that.”

I walk him to the door and watch his car roll down the driveway, kicking up a thin line of dust that hangs in the still morning air.

Then I go back inside, pick up my phone, and deep dive into the name I typed an hour ago.

Somewhere in this town, someone knows exactly what happened to my father.

And they have no idea I’m getting closer.